


Liberation

by sunlitroads



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 13:31:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16577435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlitroads/pseuds/sunlitroads
Summary: Jongdae was supposed to kill Jongin. Not fall in love with him.





	Liberation

**Author's Note:**

> first posted - 4 Jun 2014  
> my first fill to a [prompt](http://exopromptmeme.livejournal.com/15559.html?thread=7396551#t7396551) ever. teenager!Jongin ft slightly older Jongdae for reasons~ ^^

 

MONDAY

  
  
Kim Jongdae has never missed a killing.  
  
When the assassin woke up that morning, he had gone through his schedule one more time to make sure he wasn't up too early or too late. He had had the whole day planned to the last minute but, little did he know, most of his planning would have been for naught.  
  
He understands that now, as he tightens his grip on his pistol and keeps it steadily pointed at the target - a university freshman whose countenance is far too complacent for someone who's staring into the barrel of a gun. This part of the day was supposed to last no more than a mere six minutes, but it had taken a whole hour just to wait for the target to return to his room.  
  
Jongdae had clearly overlooked a certain fact or two about the student's time table, and he wishes he had gone to run his 9:06PM errand first instead of staying in the dormitory room. He hadn't, though, because the room was almost a spitting image of his own, and Jongdae had felt compelled to stay; to look around and find more things he shared in common with the person he's supposed to kill.  
  
The first thing that grabbed his attention was the Michael Jackson poster on the wall, where a couple of shelves had been built in to hold an array of books that Jongdae either already owned or wished to own. He had then smiled when he saw the study desk at the other end, with a little corner specially for merchandise - two of which he recognized as a Darth Vader figurine and an Elder Wand resting on a stand - while the blue silk bedsheets and leather loveseat gave the impression that he was standing in the most luxurious-looking dormitory room.  
  
He hadn't been surprised really, because he was, after all, in one of the more prestigious universities in South Korea, and if the target can afford to have his own room in a place such as this, luxury is probably what the latter has for breakfast. And at that thought, a bleep came from behind him and, just as the door opened, Jongdae spun around and aimed his handgun at eye-level.  
  
"Aren't you at all curious," the other begins to ask now, slowly closing the door without looking away from the firearm, "as to why your client wants to kill me?"  
  
The assassin keeps quiet. Talking to the target isn't part of the job, and knowing the reason for murdering someone has never been a concern. It makes everything too personal and complicated, and Jongdae is a professional with plain intentions. His intention, as always, is to simply shoot the target standing before him.  
  
"I know why, and who, too." The gunbarrel follows as the freshman walks over to sit on the small sofa, legs wide apart and one arm comfortably settled on the headrest. "I've been expecting this."  
  
He cocks the gun.  
  
"Don't you want to know?"  
  
" _No_ ," Jongdae replies hotly. He doesn't know why he's delaying the killing, especially when all he's doing is letting the target annoy him to the point that he's beginning to anticipate pulling that trigger, which makes this kill that much more personal. "Yah, don't you know how much your death is worth? I just want the money. I _need_ that money."  
  
"What do you need the money for?"  
  
"It's none of your business."  
  
"I think it is, if it's _my_ death that's paying for it."  
  
"A life for a life," Jongdae answers vaguely.  
  
The student smirks at this, looking even more pleased with himself. "What if I said I could pay you the same amount if you killed your client? Who would you kill then?"  
  
The younger's challenge takes him by surprise. A part of him wants to ignore the other's words, but a bigger part of him knows that the kid's made a valid point. Besides, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that this kid can afford to pay that amount (and possibly more). Jongdae takes a moment to think it over before he says, "Then I'll just have to decide on who can benefit me more, alive."  
  
The other nods, the smug look still plastered on his face. "How long is he giving you to kill me?"  
  
"He wants you dead by Friday morning."  
  
The smirk disappears. "How ironic," he mutters, and Jongdae has to fight the temptation to ask what he means. "And I assume you know this client of yours well enough?"  
  
Jongdae shrugs. "I've known him for, maybe, a week. Or less."  
  
"Then, in that case," the freshman says thoughtfully, "get to know me for a few days."  
  
The hitman lets out a short, sharp laugh, and pointedly shakes the pistol a couple of times. "You're literally staring Death in the face and you still dare to ask him to spare you a few days? Yah, you're really something. Besides, how do I know you're not going to call the cops on me?"  
  
"Because of your client; I want him dead as much as he wants to get rid of me."  
  
"And how are you going to explain to your dear mommy and daddy that you have to pay the man who killed someone for you?" Jongdae asks jeeringly.  
  
"You don't have to worry about that. Imagine me as Harry Potter, being left with a vault full of money that my parents left me before they died."  
  
Jongdae scoffs at the reference. "So someone's been trying to kill you since you're a baby, too?"  
  
Something flickers in the student's eyes and Jongdae thinks he might have accidetally stepped on a line (which is ridiculous because he's still pointing his firearm at the other) but then the younger lets out a light chuckle. "Maybe," he says and Jongdae wants to pry but doesn't, thinking that's a question for another day. Realizing then that he had just mentally agreed to the other's suggestion, Jongdae finally lowers his arm and pistol. The student beams at this. "I'm Jongin, by the way. Kim Jongin."  
  
Jongdae swallows the laugh that's threaning to get out. It's almost uncanny, how the boy before him doesn't only have similar interests, but a similar-sounding name as well. "I'm Chen," he states, opting for the alias he had adopted when he joined 'Run and Gun' three years ago.  
  
"Chen," the other repeats. "You're obviously older than me, but seeing how you were sent to kill me, I'd like to refrain from adding any honorific."  
  
"Fair enough."  
  
"Here." Jongin gets up and brings a pillow from his bed over to the loveseat. "Make yourself comfortable. I've had a long day, I need a long, hot shower." As the younger makes his way to the closet and searches it, Jongdae keeps his handgun in the pocket of his jeans and frowns as he remembers the number of errands he still has to run. He's still contemplating when Jongin reappears in front of him with two towels and two pairs of sleep clothes in his hands. "You can wear my clothes to sleep."  
  
"What's this?" the older groans as he cautiously lifts the pair of boxers he's just been handed. "You expect me to wear your dirty clothes?"  
  
The student narrows his eyes at him. "Those are new. And I don't want you to wear the same outfit everyday and stink up my room."  
  
"I could shoot you, you know."  
  
"But you won't," Jongin ripostes with a wink, and the assassin thinks (not for the first time that night) he should have just pulled the trigger before the brat had begun to open his mouth. Just before he slips into the bathroom, Jongin tells him, "Take the bed. Wouldn't want you to kill me in my sleep just so _you_ can sleep there."  
  
Jongdae can't tell whether the other is joking or not, for his gaze is unblinking and his voice is low, so the former simply nods in agreement. The hitman changes out of his clothes and into the potential target's while the latter has his shower and, despite it being two hours before his usual bedtime, Jongdae falls asleep almost as soon as he rests on the silk-dressed bed.  
  
His errands will just have to wait.  
  
  


TUESDAY

  
  
The assassin stirs awake, sleep making his nose oversensitive to the smell of cologne. He sees Jongin now, buttoning his denim shirt up in front of the long mirror, his reflection glancing at the man on his bed.  
  
"Good morning," the student greets, to which Jongdae snorts in reply. What's so good about the morning after you find out someone wants to murder you? "I'll be back in about four hours or so." He's halfway out the door when he adds, "Let's have lunch together," then he's gone, and Jongdae is alone in the room.  
  
The time is 8:32AM. He takes his phone out and starts planning the schedule for the day, right down to the last minute. By the time he's done, he's ready for his 9:18AM bath.  
  
  
  
"Oh, it's really good."  
  
"Of course, it's fried chicken."  
  
It's a few minutes to 2 and they're on Jongin's bed, the latter having just returned barely a half hour ago carrying a big plastic bag of the food - generous servings of olive rice and well-seasoned fried chicken - they're eating now. Jongin had come back later than he'd promised (which messed the older's schedule by a significant amount. He'd have to redo it after lunch) and it had been only mildly shocking when the student admitted he had taken the twenty-minute train ride to get their lunch. Mildly, because once Jongdae had taken his first bite, he momentarily forgot anything related to time or scheduling or assassination.  
  
They don't talk much while eating. The boy is quietly enjoying what clearly is his favorite meal, while the older breaks the silence every now and then with unintelligible exclamations. Jongdae was famished, really, the glazed donut and coffee from this morning not filling enough as breakfast, and even though his hunger is close to being fully satiated, the assassin continues to stuff his face with chicken and rice, utterly impressed with the taste.  
  
Jongin is the first to finish his portion, and he rubs his hands together to dispel the crumbs on them. The student then gets up and walks into the bathroom to wash his hands. "Yah," Jongdae calls out after him, "don't you care if there are crumbs on your bed?"  
  
"No," he answers from the bathroom, "I'm not the one sleeping in it."  
  
" _Jashik_ ," the assassin mutters.  
  
After Jongdae has finally finished his meal and Jongin has thrown the trash, the latter announces that he needs to complete his assignments and, he adds with just a dab of arrogance, "read ahead of the class." The thought of Jongin going to the library and leaving the older for the second time that day has Jongdae feeling the slow crawl of loneliness, but then the student starts emptying his bag and setting his books and stationery on his desk, and Jongdae truly feels like a fool.  
  
There is something strangely comforting about watching Kim Jongin study, hunched over in his seat as his writing hand moves with earnest, his back facing Jongdae who's lounging on the bed. Perhaps it's all that monosodium glutamate in his system that's making him lethargic, or simply the vision of Jongin dilligently doing his work that's giving him a sense of tranquility, but Jongdae's eyelids are getting heavier by the second, and the latter falls asleep.  
  
He wakes up and jolts at the sight of Jongin in a towel draped carelessly around his waist. The boy's hair is still damp from his wash, and there are beads of water still dripping down the younger's bare torso. Jongdae is fully aware of his sudden erection (who can blame him, really? He's in his prime and hasn't pleased himself in over a week. Well, he was _supposed_ to do that at 10:15 last night but, due to unforeseen circumstances, didn't. Besides, the younger's body is freshly-cleaned perfection in his honest opinion) and if Jongin has noticed it he makes no indication.  
  
"You're ugly when you sleep, you know that?"  
  
Ignoring the comment, Jongdae bolts past the younger and locks himself in the bathroom. After ridding himself of his clothes - _Jongin's_ clothes - he turns the tap on and it feels blissful like this, standing under the warm spray of the showerhead and thinking of nothing at all. It doesn't take long for him to get soft again, and with a sigh he continues washing himself up.  
  
The loneliness now runs to him and knocks him down when he steps out of the bathroom and into an empty bedroom, and finds the note that reads "Gone for evening class - Jongin" stuck to the back of the door. He should be worried, really, that the freshman might have paid his way out of school and flown to another country to hide in, or that the rascal has decided to call the cops on him after all, but Jongdae trusts him for some odd reason.  
  
Alas, he doesn't see Jongin for the rest of the night.  
  
  


WEDNESDAY

  
  
It's five o`clock in the morning when the door bursts open and Jongdae wakes up in a slight panic, only to huff at a disheveled Jongin stumbling into the room. The older struggles to stand, neck aching badly from having been in the same awkward position for the past three hours. It's only after the clearly intoxicated student has closed the door that Jongdae feels a tad better and yells, "Where have you been, Jongin? I'm sure evening classes don't end this late!"  
  
Jongin blinks slowly at him, as though only realizing that there's someone else in his room and he should know who it is. "You sound like my mother," he says finally with a noticeable slur, then snorts. "Or maybe you don't. I wouldn't know, because she died when I was a baby."  
  
The younger looks genuinely amused by his revelation, and Jongdae actually feels sorry for the guy. "Where did you go, Jongin?" he presses, voice softer this time but firm nonetheless.  
  
"I," Jongin begins and flops onto the couch before he continues, "went to a bar with a friend, and then I came back.. and decided to go for a drive with two other friends, Beer and Bottle." He hiccups between obnoxiously loud chuckles, expression switching from amused to confused to amused again.  
  
"You _drank and drove_? How can you d- "  
  
"Why can't - hic - I?" the drunk shouts, sounding a lot more coherent now. "I'm about to - hic - die, anyway!"  
  
Jongdae almost lets it slip that he doesn't think he'll be killing Jongin any day now, or ever for that matter; almost lets it slip that he's felt more calm around the other in the span of an hour than he's ever felt in his life. Almost, because the younger is suddenly undressing himself and whining about how he desperately needs a cold shower.  
  
Jongdae turns away as the student continues stripping himself, and retreats to the bed, eyes focused on the wall next to him the whole time. He doesn't stay like that for long, though, because there's a clang followed by a loud thump in the bathroom, where Jongdae rushes into and finds Jongin stark naked on the floor, face scrunched up as he rubs his elbow and groans.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"My arm hit the - hic - soap dish and I slipped - hic - on the soap," Jongin manages to say in his drunken stupor. The older grabs on to the other's wrists and helps him up, once again trying to look anywhere that isn't Jongin's groin. "Clean me, Chen," he whines, and Jongdae obliges.  
  
Jongdae picks up the soap bar and rinses it thoroughly before placing it on Jongin's chest and rubbing the area ever so lightly. The older's hair and clothes are getting wet from the showerhead now, but he doesn't dare to take them off. Especially not when his dick pulses with every hiccup that comes out of Jongin, and when every hiccup makes the latter stick his chest out just a bit more everytime.  
  
"Take off - hic - your clothes," the younger grumbles.  
  
Jongdae shakes his head stubbornly. "No, it's fine like this."  
  
"You're - hic - getting _my_ clothes wet," Jongin reminds him and fixes his eyes on Jongdae, who gulps before putting the soap aside and taking the shirt and boxer shorts off, exposing his painfully-hard dick. The older can only hope that Jongin is too drunk to remember this later. "That's better," the younger breathes into his ear before turning around and lowering his head. Jongdae's hand trembles when he picks the soap up again.  
  
Standing this close to the student, the hitman notices that even though Jongin is still a growing young adult, the latter already stood a few centimetres over him. It's unfair, he thinks, and rather arousing at the same time, how someone taller than him needed Jongdae to take care of them like this. And in a moment of weakness, Jongdae lowers his gaze and breathes sharply when he catches sight of the other's perky behind.  
  
Almost as if on cue, Jongin's ass rubs against his erection.  
  
Jongdae's dick throbs in approval and he loosens his grip on the soap in shock, letting it drop onto the tiles once more. Just then, Jongin faces him again and grabs the older's still-foamy hand, guiding it down until Jongdae can feel the other's veiny hardness.  
  
"Clean me," Jongin says again, his warm breath tickling a small area beside the older's nose. The younger is resting his forehead against Jongdae's, one hand still cupped around the older's as the latter strokes his length, other hand perilously clinging on to Jongdae's waist. "I saw you, you know. I saw how both you and your dick jumped at the sight of me in nothing but a towel."  
  
Jongdae pumps him harder now; faster, and Jongin's breath hitches as he finally lets go of the older's hand, raising his now-free hand to grab a chunk of Jongdae's hair instead. His scalp burns almost as much as the pit in his belly does and he worries he might end up coming before the younger, but Jongdae's worry disappears just as he expertly twists his hand and Jongin spurts onto his stomach.  
  
"Damn it, Chen," Jongin groans into his shoulder and slackens the grip on Jongdae's waist and hair. Seeing the other tired's state relaxes the assassin, and when Jongdae asks if he'd like to sleep on his bed this time, Jongin only grunts in reply.  
  
"Go lie down," Jongdae fervently instructs him once he's washed the mess off them and helped to dry the younger with a face towel. "I'll find you something to wear."  
  
"Second compartment from the right, under the blue shirt," the other mutters before shuffling out of the shower and presumably into bed.  
  
Still in the bathroom, Jongdae wrings out the clothes he had previously worn and left on the floor, dropping them into the hamper by the door afterwards. The air is cool on his exposed skin and, thinking perhaps Jongin might be even colder on that silk sheet, Jongdae adjusts the air-conditioner and raises the temperature, to which the younger hums in apparent approval. He then opens the closet doors and looks under the aforementioned blue shirt, but what Jongdae finds is not a piece of clothing. "Um, Jongin?"  
  
"Help me put it on."  
  
Uncertain, he doesn't reach for the small pack of condoms and familiar-looking tube and instead shifts his gaze to the bed where, oh _lord_ , Jongin is on his palms and knees, his gloriously smooth ass up and facing the study desk.  
  
The freshman is looking at him, with the same smug look he wore when Jongdae had pointed the gun in his face, and the assassin's member twitches eagerly. It's obvious what Jongin wants, and Jongdae hastily slips on a rubber and brings the tube of lubricant to the bed.  
  
He stands beside the chair, where the student had been sitting on as the older fell asleep watching him study just yesterday, and as he takes in the sight of a nude and enthusiastic Jongin, Jongdae lets out a single whimper. Jongin's body is achingly beautiful and there it is displayed in front of him, ready for use.  
  
But Jongdae hasn't forgotten how drunk the boy is.  
  
Sure, he had just jacked Jongin off in the shower not too long ago, but this is different. Jongdae wouldn't mind at all if the younger had chosen to fuck _him_ instead and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to rock into Jongin until the latter blacked out, but Jongin is nowhere near sober, and Jongdae doesn't want to wake up in the morning regretting what he did (or worse, to wake up and find out that the other hated him for it).  
  
"Hurry up," Jongin whines, lowering his body down only to bring it back up again to make a point.  
  
"Fuck, Jongin," the older hisses. "You're drunk. Are you sure you want this?"  
  
The other scoffs at the question. "It's just sex, Chen."  
  
His reply doesn't convince Jongdae fully so the latter stays apprehensive when he gets on the bed, lubes his protected penis up and inserts a slippery finger into Jongin. His movements are slow and careful, distracted by a sensible fear that the younger might sober up and squirm away from his touch, but it only seems to disgruntle the student.  
  
"Faster," Jongin grunts. "Chen, _faster_."  
  
Jongdae decides, then, that if the other wasn't sure he would have kicked the assassin off by now. So he picks up the pace and, once Jongin has relaxed around him, slides another lubed finger in. It feels good like this, with his slick cock rubbing against Jongin's thigh and fingers of one hand exploring Jongin's hole while the fingers of his other hand slithers into and seizes a wad of the younger's damp hair. A third finger, dry this time, sneaks in to find Jongin's prostate and the older trembles in pleasure as Jongin groans and arches his back at the sensation.  
  
"I'm ready," the other breathes just when Jongdae feels the threat of a cramp in his fingers, and he gratefully slinks both his hands down onto Jongin's ass cheeks, intent on spreading them slightly further apart for easier access.  
  
There's a collision of exclamations when Jongdae finally enters, their voices meshing into a discordant sound that will haunt him for weeks to come.  
  
They have no rhythm. While Jongdae is being considerate by fucking him gently, Jongin's movements are hectic, the younger's body frantically pushing against his own to feel more friction. It's frustrating, really, and it doesn't help when Jongin sneers, "Don't you know how to fuck, Chen?"  
  
"Shut up," Jongdae pants before gripping the younger by the waist and putting a stop to the other's rapid humping. He pounds into Jongin a few times, his pace gradually getting faster with every thrust, then Jongdae has one hand on the base of his length, and he moves it around to find that certain spot once more.  
  
Jongin comes with a loud gasp followed by a long moan, and the sounds make Jongdae finally reach his much awaited orgasm.  
  
Jongdae fumbles off a mumbling Jongin moments later, wiping Jongin's mess off the sheets and taking the moist condom off of himself then throwing it into the trash once he's found the energy. His fingers are still stained with his own come when Jongdae collapses onto the leather couch, cursing himself slightly for having raised the temperature earlier on. He wonders when Jongin's hiccups had stopped before he falls into a peaceful slumber.  
  
Jongdae wakes up to the student's pained cry and, remembering just how drunk Jongin had been last night, figures it must be the hangover. The older slips into his jeans (but leaves the gun behind. He doesn't need to be seen with that) and the first shirt he can find, hand absent-mindedly cupping his back pocket to make sure his wallet is still there. Jongdae quietly leaves the room, and walks briskly to the convenience store just next to the donut place he had gone to the day before.  
  
He doesn't take very long to make his purchase - two bottles of cold mineral water, a cup of ice cubes, mints and a packet of painkillers - and he comes home to find Jongin still writhing in agony. Jongdae goes into the bathroom, then, taking the used face towel and using it to wrap a few of the ice cubes in before holding it under the running tap.  
  
Jongin's eyelids flutter open when the cool wet towel meets his forehead, and his cries get softer the more Jongdae swabs his face and neck. Pretty soon Jongin is completely quiet and still, staring up at Jongdae as the latter continues to soothe him.  
  
A little while later, Jongdae sacrifices the spare pillow and gets the younger to sit up so that Jongin can easily swallow a painkiller and gulp down a whole bottle of the cold water. Jongdae glances around the room and notices that the time on Jongin's phone reads 11:23AM before turning his attention to the freshman again.  
  
"What time do your classes start?"  
  
"9. And I finish at 3:30 today," Jongin answers, cheeks reddening. "Is it bad that I just wanna stay in bed?"  
  
Jongdae shrugs. "What difference would missing your classes today make, anyway? You're already way ahead of them."  
  
Jongin smiles at this, and the assassin is filled with the sudden want to take his own phone out and snap a photo of the naked sweaty boy with the sweet smile, but Jongdae knows that his battery would've run out by now.  
  
"Sleep in. I need to run a couple of errands. I'll be back with something to eat," the older suggests, at which Jongin nods.  
  
The younger then gets into a comfortable sleeping position and instantly falls back asleep. The time is 11:27AM and Jongdae snags the note that was still stuck to the back of the door, using the back to write out today's agenda. Fifteen minutes later, Jongdae collects the hamper and his pistol and gets into the car he had driven to the university in.  
  
Jongdae returns just as Jongin is just waking up, and it's heartwarming to hear Jongin's laugh when the older practically showers him with warm, freshly-washed laundry. The laugh is so greatly different from his drunken guffaws the night before, and Jongdae can't help but laugh along with him.  
  
The hitman had gone back to his apartment earlier that afternoon and by the time Jongin's classes were supposed to end, the combo washer dryer had finished its last cycle, Jongdae's phone had finished charging, and the _kimchi ramyun_ had finished boiling.  
  
The _ramyun_ is set on the student's desk, and Jongin's laughter is cut short when he spots the pot, his eyes widening in surprise while the grin stays glued on his face. "Wa, did you cook that?" the younger asks, already crawling over to the foot of the bed to get a closer look.  
  
"Yah, do you think it's your birthday?" Jongdae retorts and smacks the other's butt lightly. "Put something on before you eat."  
  
  
  
"It's my birthday on Friday," the student reveals.  
  
They're in bed together, Jongdae with his back against the wall and his limbs wrapped around Jongin. They had spent much of the day in bed, the younger insisting that he had drunken a tad too much the night before and that his body was far too weak from "all that exercise" (which had the older's cock twitching again, but they had stayed clothed since their late lunch, and their showers were taken separately. Jongdae didn't mind it, of course. The day was, surprisingly, nice). Jongdae had wished the younger goodnight over an hour ago, and when he had gotten up, Jongin had pulled him back down, forcing the assassin to sleep next to him instead.  
  
"Your client wants me dead by the morning of my birthday," Jongin rephrases, and Jongdae buries his head into the other's neck as he contemplates this piece of information, unsure of what to say. He doesn't get to say anything in the end, because Jongdae falls asleep like that, thinking about Jongin as he breathes in the younger's scent.  
  
  


THURSDAY

  
  
Jongdae wakes up to Jongin staring at him.  
  
"You were sent to kill me," the freshman states matter-of-factly.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But I'm not scared of you." Jongin frowns. "Taemin sent you."  
  
The younger's guess catches Jongdae off guard and he doesn't try to hide it. It hadn't been a question, anyway. Jongin _knew_ , just like he said he did when they first met. Jongdae nods against the pillow, eyes never straying away from Jongin's hard expression.  
  
Jongdae's employer had directed Taemin to him just a week ago, and the latter hadn't been surprised that an important man of a big company had enemies he wanted to get rid of. What _was_ startling, though, was finding out that the only person's death that mattered to the chief executive officer of 'Kim Enterprises' was a mere university freshman whose name he never mentioned.  
  
Taemin had then spent the next few days sharing vital information of the student, whose time table was a mess and password for his door was based on his parents' birthdates, and once Sunday came Jongdae had had enough data to make his kill.  
  
"So it is," Jongin murmurs now.  
  
"How do you even know such a man?" the older asks, not at all curious about the relationship between Jongin and Taemin. What he really wants to know is why a young CEO such as Kim Taemin wants to kill a student like Kim Jongin, and he hopes that Jongin's answer to his earlier question would reveal at least a part of the reason.  
  
"He's my cousin."  
  
"Your - your cousin? Your cousin wants to kill you?" Jongdae almost shouts.  
  
"It's not that bad, when you know that his mother hired someone to murder my parents. His mother, my aunt; my father's sister. Like mother, like son," Jongin scoffs. "But the person who assassinated my parents wasn't as smart. My aunt was, though," he adds, face contorting to show his contempt. "She knew how to get away with it."  
  
"But how did you know it was her?"  
  
"Because she told me," Jongin snarls, half-smiling and half-grimacing at the older, "on her deathbed. Said she was glad that Taemin was older and could take over the company once she dies. Warned me of my own imminent death."  
  
"I - I'm so sorry," is what Jongdae finds himself saying, and he wants to bury himself in shame. So much for being a professional (but then again that ship sailed days ago, leaving him stranded and wading helplessly in the sea). The older clears his throat. "Is there a reason he wants you dead by Friday morning?"  
  
Jongin shifts and lies on his back instead, focusing on the ceiling when he speaks. "I turn 18 on Friday. Since I'm the rightful heir for the company, I'll be trained so that by the time I graduate, I can take over Taemin's current position."  
  
"You're not even 18 yet?"  
  
"No, I.. skipped a few grades," Jongin says, voice softer than silk, and looks at his curling toes. "So, whose life are you trying to save?"  
  
Jongdae stares at the younger, frowning as he tries to understand Jongin's question. A moment passes before the assassin remembers their first encounter, when the target at the time had asked him what he needed his death's money for. "My brother's."  
  
Jongin looks at him.  
  
"I need to bail him out of prison."  
  
"What did he do?"  
  
"Nothing.. he was in the wrong place at the wrong time." Jongdae is the one who looks away now, hand coming up to rub his eyes. "He followed me.. to one of my jobs. He was present enough to be a suspect, but they have no other evidence to prove he's guilty."  
  
Jongin's sudden touch on his hand is gentle, and the older lets him lift his hand off his face. "He didn't tell them it was you." Again, not a question.  
  
"It was supposed to be my last," Jongdae chokes, fighting back tears, "but now that he's in, I need more money than ever. Which is why -"  
  
"- why you agreed to kill me," Jongin finishes for him, and his smile is strangely reassuring. "Hey, my classes start late today. Let me buy you lunch."  
  
The assassin wants to snort and reject the offer, but Jongin quickly springs off the bed and heads into the shower, and Jongdae is left lying there, incapable of voicing out his refusal. They head out less than an hour later, the boy looking impeccable in a two-tone navy baseball t-shirt and black pants while Jongdae is wearing the checkered button-up top, white undershirt and dark blue jeans he had brought over from his apartment.  
  
When Jongdae had seen their reflection in the mirror he thought they looked good like that, standing next to each other, and he had to tell himself that no, they were _not_ going on a date.  
  
Jongdae drives them to a cosy _dak galbi_ restaurant just a little aways from his apartment, and after the older has ordered two servings and a bottle of _soju_ (at which Jongin had scoffed and grumbled that Jongdae should've ordered two, but the latter had simply reminded the boy that he still has classes to attend. He then said that a drunk Jongin was a dangerous Jongin, which shut the blushing student up) Jongdae decided it was time that they really got to know each other.  
  
"You know," the assassin begins, voice low so that only Jongin could hear him, "I've never hesitated to shoot anyone before."  
  
Jongin smirks. "What makes me so special?"  
  
"Probably nothing, probably everything," Jongdae says, his words only widening the other's smile. "That Monday when you found me in your room, it wasn't supposed to be that way. You were already supposed to be in there when I entered, but I waited an hour for you to come home. And during that hour, I tried to imagine the kind of person you are."  
  
"And what'd you think?"  
  
"I couldn't understand why anyone would want to kill someone like that," he answers honestly, and they both chuckle at this.  
  
Jongdae explains, then, how 'Run and Gun' only executes those who aren't properly punished for their filthy actions, and how every job has to first go through Leader M for approval before it's given out to specific assassins based on their skills. This time, however, it was evident that his employer had allowed the murder of an innocent teenager, either because Taemin had successfully lied to him about why Jongin is a target, or because Leader M knew that Jongdae desperately needed the money.  
  
Jongin doesn't contribute much to the topic at hand but, when Jongdae brings up the Michael Jackson poster, the boy goes on about his idol for several minutes. The student admits that he isn't someone who expresses himself very well; that dancing is the only way he knows how and Jongdae honestly thinks it's beautiful, choosing to simply let Jongin know that he can relate to that feeling about singing.  
  
They then promise each other to show their talents off when they get back.  
  
Jongdae ends up paying for the meal, joking that it's only fair to pay for someone's meal the day before he has to kill them, and Jongin genuinely beams at this, urging the older to drive them to _his_ favorite eating place, where he had bought their first lunch together. Jongdae obliges and they make a delivery order for dinner, and when the older whines that they could have simply called the number, Jongin winks and says, "You need to know where it is for future reference."  
  
When they return to the university, Jongin keeps his word and dances for the older, who at once is captivated by the other's body as it moves methodically to the beat of the music. All too soon the younger finishes his little performance, and Jongdae is jittery when Jongin hurries him to sing. "Ah, no," the older agues, "your dormmates will hear me."  
  
"All the more reason you _should_ sing! Besides, I think they heard us two nights ago."  
  
They go on like that for just a while more, until Jongdae caves in and sings one of his favorite songs, and watches as Jongin listens to him in awe.  
  
  
  
The assassin takes a piece of fried chicken from the pile and raises it to his lips, only to have it snatched away.  
  
"What the - " Jongdae utters before he realizes what's just happened. "Yah, stop acting like a child."  
  
"Yah, stop nagging like an old woman," Jongin mocks, one hand on his waist, other hand waving the fried drumstick at him, and the older can't help but chuckle. "About that.. how old are you, anyway?"  
  
Jongdae grabs another piece and bites into its crispy herbed skin. "How old do you think I am?"  
  
The student purses his lips and looks up as though in deep thought, all the while chewing slowly. "53," he answers seriously.  
  
"Right. That's right," Jongdae says with the same deadpan expression.  
  
When they've finished their dinner, the older can clearly see how tired Jongin is, and even though he knows that Jongin needs his rest, Jongdae secretly wishes that the boy won't go to sleep just yet. The older tries not to smile too widely when Jongin asks him to lie in bed with him again, hand on Jongdae's thigh and his head resting on the older's hipbone, while Jongdae's hand draws lines down the younger's back.  
  
"It's weird," Jongdae whispers. "I should probably hate you, but I think you're not that bad."  
  
Jongin's tone is warm; affectionate. "I think you're not that bad either. I think.. I might like you."  
  
The younger turns to him and straightens his back, and Jongdae senses a light touch of the hot air that escapes Jongin's mouth. Something shoots down his belly and when he feels the slight quiver of Jongin's lips against his own, Jongdae's head spins from sudden euphoria.  
  
It's a mix of everything good he's ever had happen to him, and yet nothing he's ever felt before. Even though they had fucked the other night, Jongin was right, that _was_ just sex. Jongdae knows that now as the other's body moves against his, Jongin's hands on his neck and chest while Jongdae's slowly glides up and down the younger's waist, lifting Jongin's shirt every now and then and feeling the smooth skin beneath.  
  
Jongin's tongue is teasing, but Jongdae isn't desperate for it. The kiss is nice like this, gentle and sporadic in movements, and Jongdae grazes the younger's lips, choosing to tease Jongin back just the same. They don't say anything; they don't need to. The kiss says more than words ever could.  
  
As they continue locking lips, Jongdae wonders if this is Jongin's first real kiss, too.  
  
  


FRIDAY

  
  
"Happy birthday," Jongdae wishes the other in the middle of the kiss, having counted down the minutes to midnight in his head. He feels Jongin slowly pull away, and even in the dimness of the room Jongdae can make out the other's uncertain countenance. "You're officially a CEO-in-training now."  
  
"A-are you sure?"  
  
He offers Jongin a kind smile. "Of course. I choose you, Jongin."  
  
"Chen," the student sighs and goes in for another tender kiss, which Jongdae softly breaks when their erections brush against one another.  
  
He doesn't even have to ask; Jongin is already nodding at him and glancing over at the closet, so Jongdae opens it and looks once more in the second compartment from the right, under a certain blue shirt. Jongdae carefully tears a foil packet and slips the condom on, the tube of lubricant wrapped in his hand as he makes his way back to the bed.  
  
Once they have undressed, Jongdae kneels between Jongin's legs and spreads them further apart, reveling in the sight of the freshman splayed out for him like this. The older trails pecks from Jongin's toned stomach to his chest, finally resting on an area between the younger's neck and shoulder to suck on. Jongin shudders under him and moans. "Che- "  
  
"Jongdae," the assassin corrects him, licking the hickey in an attempt to lessen the pain. "My real name is Jongdae. Chen is just a name I use for my job."  
  
Jongin lowers his head to look at him, and Jongdae can see the bead of sweat already trickling down the student's eye, making him wink uncomfortably at the older. "Isn't that what I am - just another one of your jobs?"  
  
"Not like this," he breathes in reply and leans in before locking Jongin's plump lips with his own. The younger's body relaxes as he succumbs to the kiss, only to tense up again when Jongdae slips a hand under Jongin's ass and a lubed finger into him.  
  
When another moist finger enters, Jongin harshly pulls away and lifts himself slightly by his feet, helping Jongdae move in deeper without having to strain his hand. Meanwhile, Jongdae's other hand traces the younger's hipbone before cupping his dick, continually palming Jongin's length and scrotum. Soon he has another slick finger in, and when Jongin's muscles loosens significantly he crooks his three fingers. What sounds like a growl comes out of Jongin now, and Jongdae slowly takes his fingers out, inserting his own cock carefully right after.  
  
It doesn't take long for them to find a rhythm this time, and as the pace starts to increase Jongin wraps his legs around the older's hips, gasping with every thrust. "Ch- Jongdae," the student moans.  
  
Jongin lets go of his grip on his pillow and digs his fingernails into the older's forearm, breaths quickening as Jongdae continues to massage him. Jongin's skin is smooth under his touch, and Jongdae barely registers the precum that's coming out of the slit and running down the shaft. Knowing that it's his weakness, the older delicately twists Jongin's throbbing cock.  
  
Jongin arches his back and comes onto the older's hips and hand. Jongdae can feel Jongin's muscles contract around his protected dick due to the orgasm, and when Jongin moans, " _hyung_ ," Jongdae almost blacks out from ejaculating.  
  
"You didn't say you liked me back," Jongin tells him after they've cleaned up and gone back to bed.  
  
"I do," Jongdae answers with a small peck on the other's cheek. "Do you still like me?"  
  
"I guess," Jongin replies, tilting his head and giving an oblique smile before bursting into laughter. "Of course I still do, you silly old man."  
  
"Ah, _why_?" Jongdae yells. "Stop calling me old. I'm only 25."  
  
"You're old, hyung," the other persists, and Jongdae's heart somersaults at the honorific.  
  
"That's right, Jonginnie," the older says cutely, at which Jongin jokingly gags.  
  
They sleep in each other's arms and leave the room together at 9:45AM only to go separate ways, the student heading for his class while the assassin gets into his car and drives to Kim Enterprises. Jongdae waits in the restroom of the building, making sure to pull the hood of Jongin's jacket up to hide his face from the cameras, and shoots Kim Taemin between the eyes before the latter can get a word out.  
  
  


FOUR YEARS LATER

  
  
"Congrats."  
  
"Thanks, hyung."  
  
Jongdae places a hand on Jongin's shoulder, massaging some of the tension away, and takes in the surroundings. They're at the university concourse, where the graduation had just taken place and Jongin had made a speech as one of the top students. Jongin who, now 22, towers over him in terms of height _and_ intelligence, and yet, more often than not, extends his arms so that Jongdae can pull him up. "I'm proud of you," the older says affectionately when he returns his gaze.  
  
"I couldn't have done it without you," Jongin remarks and Jongdae only now realizes how true that is. It's not that Jongdae has helped the student excel academically, but Jongdae now wonders what it would have been like if Taemin had gone to a different group for help, or if Jongdae's ex-employer had given the job to someone other than Jongdae. Jongin probably would've died that fateful Monday. "Are you going to tell your brother, or can I?"  
  
Jongdae had been able to bail his brother out the same day he had shot Taemin, with the help of Jongin and his riches, and even though his brother pretty much distanced himself for the first year, they are inseperable now. Jongin, though, seems even closer to his brother than Jongdae is. "I've already told him. And we're going for drinks tonight, got it?"  
  
Just then, Jongin's lanky friend appears, struggling to keep the graduate cap on his head. "Hey Jongin, nice spee- oh, who's this?"  
  
"My boyfriend," Jongin informs, grinning as he links his arm with the older's rather possessively. Jongdae shakes his head in disbelief at the other's bluntness, then quietly reasons that they have been together for over three years now, anyway.  
  
"Is that so? How did you two meet?" the taller student asks, his delight at the news apparent.  
  
"Oh." Jongin is looking at Jongdae now, the familiar glint of playfulness in his eyes. The younger licks his lips before he says with a grin, "someone told him to give me a shot."  
  
And that, Jongdae muses, is just one out of the many reasons why he had fallen in love with Kim Jongin.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
END  
  


  
  
  
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End file.
